Training Wheels
by Pandora449
Summary: Sam must learn to control his powers…before it is too late. In order to save his older brother, Sam is determined to harness his telepathic and telekinetic abilities in a race against the clock and his brother's fate. Set sometime during Season 2 but after 'Hunted'. Rated T for language and some gore. Not a death fic. No wincest. Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Dean, Protective/Bigbrother!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**Training Wheels**

**Summary: **Sam must learn to control his powers…before it is too late. In order to save his older brother, Sam is determined to harness his telepathic and telekinetic abilities in a race against the clock and his brother's fate. Set sometime during Season 2 but after 'Hunted' (episode 10). Rated T for language and some gore. Not a death fic. No wincest. Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Dean, Protective/Bigbrother!Dean

**Author's Note**: This is my first ever fic, so please be gentle. Also, I don't have a Beta - all mistakes are my own.

**Disclaimer**: Nope, don't own them.

**Chapter 1: The Vision **

Sam lets the grimy motel door swing shut on groaning hinges behind him. Not bothering to lock it, he threw the motel key onto the kitchen bench, knowing that Dean was coming up in a few minutes. Walking into the dimly lit room, Sam flopped backwards, hitting the bed with a thud, the springs bouncing under his huge frame. He felt like he had just gone a few rounds with a psychotic toaster, and although he would never admit it - everything ached. He squinted at the ceiling, trying to focus on the small details in the peeling paint, but once again his eyes slipped shut as a wave of nausea hit him from his stomach.

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

Dean shifted the greasy paper bag and boos in his arms, locking the impala, parking his baby as close to the motel entrance if needed for a quick getaway (knowing that with their luck they would probably need it). Still feeling slightly lightheaded he made his way to the motel. The spirit had really kicked the crap out of him, smashing him through the old plaster wall before choking him under its cold fingers. Dark spots had bobbed in his vision, just before his eyes burned, as the bitch was lit up in flames.

Of course, Sam had come through again, salt and burning the bones with only seconds to spare.

Actually it felt kinda' good to go on a normal hunt (well - as normal as life got for Sam and Dean Winchester). He didn't have to deal with any weird shit, life freak hunters wanting to kill his physic brother or Sam's ever growing 'vision' problem.

Nope, for once it was just them and the hunt. No short cuts. No visions. No shades of grey. So yeah, why shouldn't he feel good? He had parked the Impala and walked up to the motel room feeling pretty damn proud of himself. Hell, he had even managed to skim the number of a cute blonde in the bar. Maybe later tonight if he got bored….

Smugly, he smiled to himself, as the motel door swung open revealing the green inertia. It was nothing special – just a room with two beds and a divider to the kitchen. But it was good enough for them.

He rustled the plastic bag, looking at the heap on the bed that was his brother. "Oi Sam, get your gigantor ass over here and eat somethin'."

Sam barely filched, his only response being a low groan. And with that, Dean's good mood plummeted.

He rushed to his brother's side, catching himself on the bedside table, "Sammy?"

Sam's eyes opened a fraction in recognition, "Dean?"

"Yeah buddy, are you hurt?" Dean's eyes searched his brother's long frame, unable to recall Sam being hurt during the hunt. The ghost hadn't laid a hand on him.

"Uhhhh…no…I don't think s-" Sam started, but his voice melted as a new wave of pain erupted behind his eyes, as if a thousand needled were being pressed into his skull. He drew his hands to his head, clenching his eyes shut and pushing his temples inwards as if the action was literally holding his head together.

Dean's heart was in his throat. "Sammy, Sam…what's wrong? I need you to open those green eyes for me." A million possibilities were running through his head, and yet Sam's symptoms were all leading to one conclusion. A vision.

The pain lines in Sam's face increased, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Upon hearing his brother's plea, Sam's eyes snapped open, but fluttered as images invaded his mind.

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

_He heard Dean's voice through the bright flames: 'SAM!' _

_The smoke made it hard to breath, but he pushed on, desperately searching for his brother. _

_Flash. _

_He stood over Dean, attempting to lift the beam crushing his brother, as his muscles screamed and the smoke burned his lungs. But it was too much. He couldn't do it. His brother would die here in the flames – just like Mum, just like Jessica. _

_Flash. _

_Dean wasn't breathing – but Sam pushed on, a harrowing scream erupting from his mouth as the heat intensified and black spots danced in his vision. The fire caught his clothes, scorching the flesh…and finally he succumbed, collapsing next to his brother still trapped under the beam. _

"_I'm sorry D'n" he whispered before his vision went black and the fire consumed them. _

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

Dean waited, feeling utterly helpless as he attempted to steady his thrashing brother. Sam was flailing on the bed, his eyes wide in fear whilst his face was twisted in pain.

"Sshhh Sammy...it's okay," Dean whispered, unsure whether he was reassuring himself or Sam. "I gotcha little brother, but how about you wake up now huh? You've had your beauty sleep."

At this, Sam's flailing slowed, his head sinking down into the pillow.

"Sam? Buddy, you back with me?" Dean asked anxiously. However, relief washed over him only second later, as Sam's eyes eventually found him.

Sam felt like he had been asleep for a week, his tongue struggling to form words and only barely making out the fuzzy outline above him that was…his brother…alive. "D'n?"

"The one and only," Dean replied conceitedly, but the pun fell short with the undisguisable worry in his voice. "How do you feel?"

"Felt…so real," Sam raised a hand to his chest and groggily swung his feet off the bed. His face turned as white as a ghost (which could be taken literally with their experiences) and his breathing became hitched. "Oh god, the fire and I couldn't lift it…I couldn't save you…I couldn't…."

Dean grasped Sam's shoulders, comforting and steadying his brother, "woah, Sam, take it easy. I'm right here – I'm okay."

Sam looked up, his hair partially covering his hazel eyes, "It's not okay….I can't-" his voice cracked, because he couldn't tell Dean. He couldn't let Dean know of his plan which had been set in motion as soon as he had come out of the vision. Why? Cause Dean would be pissed and would fight against it tooth and nail. But when had that ever stopped Sam?

Was his plan wrong? Probably.

Would this ever stop him from trying? Never.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Firstly, I just want to say thanks sooo much to all the people who pressed follow or favourite. You guys are amazing! Also, thanks a million to Lucydolly22 and AshleyMarie84 for your lovely reviews, it was really nice to hear from you.

Sorry for the wait everyone, but I really tried to make chapter 2 good.

Hopefully, chapter 2 will answer some questions. This is mainly a Sam chapter, but I promise lots of Dean in the next chapter (as well as Sam). Happy reading :)

**Chapter 2: The Memory**

"Charming," the demon sneered from the dark corner of the old neglected cottage, observing the two other demons before him.

The first was wearing blue overalls, his stomach bulging out the sides, whilst hair covered most of his face in a cropped beard. The second was a young blonde girl, maybe 21 or 22, who apparently went by the name of "Trixie" according to her "Carol's Convenience Store" badge fastened to her red and white uniform.

"And they call us primitive," the demon continued, stepping forward to reveal himself before pacing circles around the pair.

The girl fidgeted with her hands. It was simple - she was afraid. They had heard stories of this demon, stories which were enough to tell her to obey him if she wanted to stay topside.

This action didn't go unnoticed by the demon as he stopped in front of her. "Now, now, there is no reason to fidget. I have a job for you – a very important job."

He paused then, for dramatic affect before continuing, "I need you to break Sam Winchester. Make him hurt. Make him feel pain…and panic…and fear. But most importantly I want to inject an all-consuming desire and hatred within him. It is only natural that this occurs…it is his destiny. And so I need to take away the one thing that keeps that boy grounded."

The demon stared into the eyes of the demon wearing the man, "this, oh yes, this will break our dear Sammy Winchester…"

The demon in charge explained his plan watching as the demons showed their eagerness. The demon wearing the older man smiled, his lips turning up in a cruel smirk whilst "Trixie" appeared less nervous and more so curious, obviously not wanting to miss an opportunity to screw over a Winchester.

The demon in charge saw this also and added in a stern voice, "but _only_ on my signal. Until then I need you to watch him and report back to me on his progress. He is my favourite after all, but he still needs a little nudging. And I know just how to push him over the edge."

The demon knew that his wonder boy Sam would have visions of the fire, with them being so close, and he also knew that Sam would try to harness his abilities in his predictable plight to save his brother, and this was exactly what the demon wanted. He was simply dropping the breadcrumbs, ensuring that Sam would find his way. He was playing Sam like a puppet, pulling his strings and ensuring that Sam would travel down the right path. And the path was simple - Sam's visions and attempts to harness his abilities would fuel his hope, the fire would fuel his fear and lastly Dean's death would fuel Sam's hatred. Oh yes, the path was simple and yet utterly complex due to the chain of events which would follow Deans terrible demies. He would have his soldier…

The demon finished explaining his plan and after their nodding in agreement, he smiled maliciously as he watched the pair leave. His eyes flashed yellow and in black smoke he left the body he was possessing, leaving with one final thought before allowing the human to crumple to the floor.

_Oh, this is going to be too good._

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

Sam woke as his phone alarm vibrated under his pillow. Turning over, he switched the alarm off before it caused enough noise to wake Dean. He glanced down at the phone's screen, noting the time. The sharp light pierced through the darkness as the time blared up at him - 4:00am, which was roughly 3 hours before Dean would get out of bed. That equaled 3 hours of training. He didn't know what to expect of this morning as it was his very first try. Never before had he attempted to move things with his mind. Well, not intentionally anyway.

It had happened only once before, when Max Miller had trapped him in a closet with a cabinet against the door. That was the first time that Sam had seen Dean die, when through a vision he saw Max shoot Dean straight in the head. Sam remembered the inner pain he had felt as he had screamed in the closet, somehow causing the cabinet move to the side, releasing him from his prison and enabling him to save his brother. It had happened in a pure adrenalin mode, as moving the cabinet came out of him like a punch.

Now as Sam sat up in bed he had no idea if he could recreate the same outcome without the situation and adrenalin, and yet he still hoped that his need to save his bother would be enough.

Sam squinted through the darkness, attempting to make out the features of the motel room around him. It wouldn't help if on the way out he whacked into something making enough noise to wake his brother.

Soundlessly Sam slipped out of bed and pulled on his shoes and jacket. Hands outstretched, he worked his way around the room, following the wall until he found the edges of the door. Carefully, he twisted the key in its lock feeling it click before he turned the handle.

Upon pulling the door open, it squeaked slightly on its hinges causing Sam to stand still, bolted to the spot. Behind him, sheets rustled as Dean turned over in his sleep, muttering something incoherent about pie, before settling back into his slow breathing pattern. Turning his focus back to the door, Sam exhaled, not realising that he had been holding his breath. He couldn't let Dean know what he was doing.

After last night's vision he had pushed Dean away and crashed into bed early, blaming it on a headache (which was partially the truth - seeming that his visions usually came with a lovely cocktail of nausea and fatigue), when really he knew that he would need the extra hours sleep, knowing that he was getting up bright and early the next morning. But that wasn't the thing nagging at him.

He had seen his brother die.

And he had seen himself fail.

He didn't know when the fire would occur, but his visions were never wrong - it was going to happen and Dean would die.

Unless he stopped it.

Sam knew from the vision that he could not save Dean through brute strength, as the beam's weight combined with the intoxicating smoke made it too heavy to lift. So, this then left one option: telekinesis. If he couldn't rely on strength, maybe he could rely on his mind, using his abilities to lift the heavy beam. He was grasping at straws really but he still had the faintest glimmer of hope that he could train his mind and save his brother.

Halfway through the door, Sam glanced back into the dark room, only closing the door after he confirmed Dean's heavy breathing. Dean was still soundlessly asleep and if all went well, would not know that Sam had gone out at all.

Outside Sam passed the Impala, not risking starting the engine and waking Dean. Instead, he walked down the footpath towards a park he had seen upon coming through the town. Tiny rays of light could be seen on the horizon as the sun had not yet come above the bitumen road but still shared some of its light over the little town.

Sam and Dean were now between jobs, just holding up in the town for a couple days searching newspapers, scouting for a new hunt. It wouldn't take long and the town wasn't keeping them, as there wasn't all that much to see. It was mostly comprised of old run-down warehouses and cottages, full of sad memories and broken promises...much like a ghost town really. The shopping facilities were limited to the convenience store on the corner and the population Sam guessed would be around 100 people, if that.

Sam trudged on, pulling his jacket tighter and leaving the pavement to enter the park. At 4:30am it was completely abandoned, the only sign of movement being the swings swaying faintly in the cold breeze. Needless to say, it was eerie. The warehouses surrounding the silent park were covered in mindless graffiti and the only hint of current civilisation was a blue van parked in the otherwise empty car park.

However, once Sam had finally reached the park, he had no idea what to do. How could he even start? What was he even expecting? It wasn't like he could magically click his fingers and activate his abilities - that just wasn't how it worked. So, although this may seem childish - he did the only thing he could think of - he walked over to the swing and sat down, kicking slightly off the ground. The chains screeched as the rust covered swing struggled to hold his weight.

Looking back on it, he would have appeared quite bizarre himself, sitting on a swing which was clearly not made for someone of his height or build. And yet Sam didn't seem to care, as a memory bubbled to the surface in his mind.

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

"_You got me?" a little Sam asked his big brother, his eyes gleaming with excitement._

"_Yeah, I gotcha Sammy. Just hang on," Dean answered, pulling his little brother higher on the swing._

_Sam giggled, swinging his legs._

"_You ready?" Dean asked._

_In response, Sam nodded his head vigorously; his 9 year old self being too excited to form words._

_Dean let go, giving his brother one final push as the swing took on momentum. Sam squealed in joy, as Dean pushed him on the swing, back and forth._

_Dean couldn't help but smile, unable to mask his happiness. This just seemed right. It had always been his job to look after his little bro, and although Sam was sometimes a pain in the ass, Dean loved him. So when Sam was happy, Dean was too._

_Sam continued to giggle on the swing, calling at his brother to push him higher._

_Dean obliged until Sam was nearly swinging a full loop, the swing's chains slackening and gravity pulling him back to the ground just before the swing did a full 360. This of course was just before the swing got a little too close to making a complete loop so Dean started to slow Sam down to a steady stop._

_Sam grinned up at Dean, the kid's giddy smile also showing in his eyes. "Want to play tag?" he asked._

_Dean actually could think of nothing better. _

**SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN SPNSPNSPN**

The memory faded, leaving a smile on Sam's lips. He hadn't known what Dean was thinking, but it was still a fond memory. So insignificant and yet so important. And with that, something inside Sam snapped. That was it. Sam leapt off the swing, turning back to face it. He outstretched his hand, concentrating hard on the swing set.

There was silence. He closed his eyes and remembered the time Dean had pushed him on a swing. Using his love, joy and desperation to save his brother, Sam felt the energy flow out of him which was followed by the creaking of the swing.

Sam opened his eyes a fraction, blinking through his eyelashes. He felt the energy pouring out of him, as if a Striga was sucking on his life force, his soul. The swing gained momentum as Sam pulled back and forth in his mind, whilst also extending his power to the second set of swings and the broken down seesaw. The park suddenly came alive in an invisible force as Sam willed it into being. Sam smiled in sheer joy and for a fleeting few seconds his ability held steady, and then it crashed. Literally.

Sam tumbled to the ground in a mess, landing on his knees and doubling over in pain, the outskirts of his vision becoming blurry. A brief moment of understanding entered his mind – he had gone too far. He should have started smaller, attempting to move stones or something. But this still proved one thing - that with practice he could control his ability. Again, it had happened - he had used his emotions to control his mind and telekinesis. The first time it had happened, it had been triggered by adrenalin and pain, and now it was his love and desperation. And with this knowledge, maybe...just maybe he would be able to save his brother from the ever approaching fire.

Pushing this out of his mind for now, Sam readied himself to stand, outstretching one leg. However, even this slight shift in position alone made the world around him spin, the colours of the park blurring together.

"Geez," Sam whispered, surprised to find his own voice raspy. How would he make it back to the motel on time? The sun was already coming up as he pushed himself off the grass and leaned against the swing poll. _It's going to be a long walk back to the room_, he thought as he left the security of the poll and took his first unsteady steps out of the park and down the road.

Too out of it to notice, Sam failed to see the blue van choke to life and quietly glide down the road only meters behind him, the driver's black eyes fixed on the hunched over and vulnerable figure of Sam Winchester.

**TBC**


End file.
